I was going to give you the story behind this drawing and provide the link that would explain all, but I think it's funnier if I don't. Funnier to me, that is, and that's what it's all about, as I keep trying to tell you lot. Making people scratch their heads seems to be just as rewarding as hearing a great chorus of belly-laughs. I'm sure it's connected to my sociopathy, and what do you do about that, anyway? I have yet to see any sociopathic medicines advertised, unless you count the ones that suggest you seek help only after four solid hours of priapism. But that would kinda be promoting sociopathic behavior, not curtailing it. Unless, of course, the priapism functioned as a warning sign, sending people fleeing in the opposite direction, like a banner posted on a pedophile's front lawn. Imagine walking into a 7-11 when you're in, say, your third hour of priapism, and knock a couple of end-cap displays into the aisle. You'd clear that place out mighty quick-like, and those who stuck around are maybe not the kinds of folks with whom you'd be happy to co-mingle. Which might force you to re-think your position on sociopathy. These are the kinds of things I think about when time permits. This is the examined life.